The Stages of Love
by Hyacinthe Cassiline
Summary: Love never started out as love. Sometimes, it started as a friendship. Sometimes, it started as curiosity. This love started with a miracle. NezuShi. Rated for later chapters.
1. Stage One

Hello everyone~! Okay, here's the deal. I'm addicted to No. 6. I've watched the anime like three times through and I love it more each time. Yeah, scary. I know. BUT! The good news is that, after being so busy for so long, I finally got a chance to sit down and actually write something. I've gotten a few good ideas, so I think I can start working on those now.

With this, I have two more chapters to actually write out, but I have the rest of it put together and waiting to be typed up. So I should actually be able to finish this one. _;;;

Okay, I'll stop blathering on and let you read. Promise.

Warnings: Boy/boy lovestuffs. Well, if you're reading anything for this anime, you probably expected it anyway. Still.

Disclaimer: …..you're joking, right? I WISH I owned Nezumi. Homina, homina, homina~!

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Stage One: Miracle

I awoke before you in the morning still amazed that you'd accepted me so openly. Wouldn't anyone else have called the cops? Naturally. Most people would have made a panicked call the second they saw that I'd climbed through the window uninvited.

But not you.

Instead of seeing a potentially dangerous intruder – which I _was_, you idiot – you saw a worn out and wounded child who needed help. Instead of feeling threatened when my fingers wound around your fragile neck, you were impressed that I knew what I was doing. Most amazing of all, instead of turning me in, even after you learned I was an escaped VC, you dressed my wound, clothed me, fed me, and gave me place to rest.

You were a weirdo. You're _still_ a weirdo.

Who in their right mind would offer help to someone who'd broken into their house? Only a weirdo. Who, in this controlled hell of a city, would freely break rules with the knowledge of the punishment that awaited them? Only a weirdo. Who in their right mind would offer to help a complete stranger – a _criminal_, at that – with no hesitation, no fear, no regret, and without expecting anything in return? Only you, a weirdo.

But you taught me something.

You showed me that there was something in humanity besides cruelty. You showed me that there are some people, though they may be few and far in between, that possess kindness; that some radiate warmth. You taught me that some people are willing to extend a helping hand simply because it's the right thing to do – no, you also taught me that it's _alright_ to extend that helping hand.

I knew from the moment I understood this epiphany that it would remain engraved in my heart for the rest of my life. I never wanted to forget this lesson.

That lesson was the best thing you'd given me.

I was long gone by the time you'd awakened, but I left you two things. I left you a promise that we'd meet again. I wasn't sure how, and I wasn't sure when, but I knew we would. Yes, that, and I pressed a whisper of a kiss to your lips. It was inadequate, but it was all I had.

But then…who really knows what they should give to their miracle?


	2. Stage Two

Oh, duh. I forgot to tell ya'll. The chapters switch POVs. So the first one was Nezumi. This one is Shion. Next one will be Nezumi. And so on and so forth. I'm figuring most of you already guessed this, but still thought I'd say something anyway. And yes, I know. Short chapters are SHORT. I might make the fic longer to give you more to read.

And here's chapter two. I'm so excited~!

Disclaimer: If I didn't own them when I posted the first chapter ten minutes ago, what makes you think I would NOW?

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Stage Two: Realization

I'd never actually minded losing my special privileges; not even during those two days of interrogation. Not even when I told my mom I was sorry. What I'd meant was that I was sorry my actions had affected her too, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. I know you'd scoff at me, but that's how I felt. It's how I feel now.

At first, I thought about that night non-stop. I couldn't help it, really. I wondered about you endlessly. I wondered what you were doing, where you were, if you were safe, if you were healthy, if you were happy. I knew you were alive. I knew because, during that night, though I couldn't sense your presence in the darkness of my bedroom, I still felt your will to live. It was like feeling the heat of the sun on my skin after winter. It shone brightly from within you. It burned brightly in the silver of your eyes. It was stunning.

That was probably why I thought your name didn't suit you: You were too radiant to have a name that belonged to the dirty shades of gray and brown. You were too elegant, too graceful to live in a world shrouded in darkness.

Mom started worrying about me. To be fair, I was spaced out a considerable portion of the time. I can't blame her, I suppose. She'd call my name a few times in a row and get no response. Sometimes she even had to shake me a little bit to get my attention. Until she asked me who 'Nezumi' was, I never realized how often I'd been saying your name.

For her, I tried. I tried not thinking about you so often. It was hard because I didn't _want_ to stop thinking about you. Ever. I wanted to retain every single detail; the way your eyes, your endlessly captivating eyes seemed to catch and reflect even the tiniest flashes of light; the way you laughed, as though you didn't really want to laugh, but were helpless to stop it; the way you carried yourself so gracefully even with such a serious wound; your gentle smile; the warmth of your skin on mine; the feel of your hand in mine. I wanted – needed – to remember all of it.

You dragged my mind out of the equations and out of the numbers I'd been taught to associate with a human life. You dragged emotions from me even as they struggled and fought to stay hidden. I never knew raw worry until I saw the sheer amount of blood you'd already lost and what you were still losing. I knew what my true laughter sounded like; I only knew the cheap imitation. I didn't know I could smile so much that it made my face hurt. I didn't know my entire face could turn red in embarrassment.

I didn't know that missing you so much was possible.

You made me human. You made me realize what it felt like to be _alive._


	3. Stage Three

Hello again, everyone~! Jeeze. Has anyone heard of Sam Tsui? I listened to him on repeat while writing this stuff out. Go look him up. He's FANTASTIC. Yes, he deserves the all-caps treatment. That's how amazing he is.

Anyway. Another chapter~! Drop me a line. I like those. A lot. I don't even mind haters. Fo shizzle, ma rizzle. Okay, I'm done. Oh, has anyone noticed that McDonald's is using their logo on their napkins? WEIRD. Okay, now I'm actually done. Promise.

Disclaimer: I kinda hate doing these. NO. I don't own Nezumi. Or anyone else.

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Stage Three: Annoyance

It was actually kinda creepy of me to keep an eye on you for four years, wasn't it? Yeah, it probably was. But you never questioned what I _did_ tell you and just took me at my extremely unreliable word. You were so _trusting_. You trusted me instantly. Some part of me was happy you did. Most of me thought you were an idiot. All of me knew it was going to annoy the hell out of me. Your trust was something you extended to everyone.

It would get you killed in the West Block.

I told you as much. You asked why. Like a four year old child, the questions just kept pouring out of you. A small part of me was absolutely fascinated at the sheer amount of question you could ask and how you managed to ask them _so quickly_. The rest of me wished you'd shut up and figure out some of the answers yourself. I wasn't a teacher. I wasn't a patient and indulgent parent.

And you weren't a child anymore.

But you still acted like one sometimes. I knew you'd been sheltered from how harsh the world can be – how cruel it usually was. I knew you'd never faced life-threatening danger. I thought I was prepared for how naïve you'd be. I was wrong. Your idealistic dreamer's view of the world drove me crazy sometimes. Couldn't you see, by looking around you, that the West Block was a vicious place? Didn't you feel the murderous intent lingering in the air? Were you actually that dense?

Worst part about it was that your condition was obviously contagious.

I started letting down my guard – not just around you; it happened around people who would exploit that weakness. I was angry at myself for letting it happen. I was angry at you for finding cracks in my defenses. Sometimes I wanted to hate you for finding your way to my core so easily.

Maybe you were already there.

Whatever it was you were doing, I wanted you to stop. I wanted to push you away. I wanted to be honestly annoyed at you for _everything_. Didn't you see what you were doing to me?

But I couldn't do any of it.

I don't know why. Maybe I was a masochist enjoying the confusion and pain of feeling so many conflicting things at once.

No. That wasn't it. I couldn't do it because I knew it'd hurt you. For some reason, the thought of hurting you hurt me more than anything else; and I was no stranger to pain. Sadness didn't belong in your eyes. Sadness _I'd _put there? I couldn't do it.

I could never break you.


	4. Stage Four

OMG. Four chapters in two days? This is a sign of obsession, I think. I haven't decided yet whether or not it's a good thing. While I ponder, new chapter for you.

Disclaimer: I kinda wanna cry every time I type one of these. No, I don't own anything except my way with words.

Stage Four: Closed

* * *

I wish you would look at me for once. Yes, _me_, not the haze of Number Six. I was born and raised there, but it wasn't like I was applying for a government job with you and you needed to screen the prospective employees by their past addresses. Yes, I had been sheltered; yes, I was totally unaware of the city's methods when it came to keeping the peace. Wasn't my state of blindness the reason you started showing me the truth, little by little?

But you kept treating me like a child. You kept treating me like I would never understand your feelings. You stayed closed off. You never let me in. You probably never knew how much that hurt. It hurt as much as you using your words to brush mine away.

I knew what I felt when I was with you. Just like the night we met; when I recognized how suffocated, how chained down I felt by Number Six. I was fully aware of what feelings were blooming within me. I wasn't a liar; I wasn't even an unintentional liar. The difference between the oath I had to swear to the city and telling you what I felt was that with you, I was under no obligation to tell you anything one way or the other.

Yet you still couldn't see that my words were honest?

You thought I was merely dazzled. _Dazzled_, like I couldn't make any sense of my own feelings. If my feelings weren't the real thing; would I long for your presence until it ached? Would I fear your pain over mine? Would I race into danger even knowing I couldn't do much if it meant I might be able to help you? Would I be so concerned about you even knowing how much stronger you are? Would I gravitate toward you without thinking about it? Would I be so comfortable with you seeing me break down? _Could_ I do any of it if I was only _dazzled_?

Idiot! You're a total idiot!

You told me I'd make a terrible actor, but somehow I can lie like a professional when I'm telling you how I feel about you? Were you trying to push me away with those words? I guess it wouldn't shock me; you were so used to pushing people away that you did it without thinking about it.

You were so closed off. It agitated me, it frustrated me. It _hurt_. It hurt more than I can measure. Why couldn't you believe in me, even if it was only a little at a time? Why wouldn't you let me in? You were so _close_ to me, yet I couldn't reach out and touch you.

You're more precious to me than Safu. More treasured than my mother. I know how horrible that sounds, but what I feel for you is something much stronger, something much deeper, something that grows more every single day. I love Safu; she's like a sister to me. I love my mother; she's my _mother._ But you. What I feel for you eclipses what I feel for both of them combined several times over.

So why? Why won't you just let me love you?


	5. Stage Five

Hello again!

This chapter nearly murdered my wrist. I write everything by hand before I type it up because a blank Word document gives me writer's block. And a headache. This one was a challenge. Not for the length. The content. OH, the CONTENT.

Warning: There be angst in this chapter. Don't let the beginning fool you! Also, if you haven't watched the anime (the WHOLE thing), you are warned that this is one big, fat spoiler. Also, it helps to know what happened since I didn't go into explicit detail on EVERYTHING that happened at this point. Also, I took a little creative liberty on Super Shion-sama. Rather, I came up with a reason he woke up.

Jeeze, one more thing. In the novels, it is explained that Nezumi isn't a huge fan of light. Just remember that for later, ja?

Random: I almost put a "—but I couldn't find my lips" in here, but I didn't because then I imagined a Mr. Potato head looking desperately for his lips and couldn't do it.

Disclaimer: No, I still don't own Nezumi. I don't even have a plushie. *sniffle*

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Stage Five: Breaking Rules

At the beginning, I told you all the rules. I told you it was dangerous to worry about someone other than yourself. I told you not to place your trust and faith in anyone – not even me. I told you not to shed tears for anyone but yourself.

Yet there I was, breaking all my own rules.

It started in the midst of my 'dizzy spell'. I reached out to you unconsciously and you reached back. The first thing a felt when I woke up was your hand around mine. The first thing I saw was the stomach-turning cocktail of worry and terror in your eyes. Some part of me was happy you cared enough to worry. Most of me wanted you to stop worrying about me and think about yourself.

Then we danced.

I really had wanted to prove that I was fine, but I had an ulterior motive: I wanted you in my arms. As clichéd as it sounds, you felt right in my arms. I was comfortable with you so close. I longed for you to be closer. I felt safe.

My heartbeat picked up its tempo. Usually, I would've tried to hide it from you, but this time I couldn't be bothered. I was wrapped up in enjoying the feel of you; the tingles that raced through me where your hands were, one in my hand, the other on my shoulder; the feel of your waist under my fingertips; the gentle curve of your hip. How had I ever said you were too skinny? You were slightly effeminate in build, sure. But you weren't too skinny. You were perfect.

The physical element wasn't the only thing I was enjoying.

In those moments, I caught glimpses of the world through your eyes. It was a beautiful thing, quite unlike my own jaded view. In your vision of the world, smiles were brighter and truer, hearts were open and loving, people were kind. For a moment, I believed your third option was possible. For that same moment, I wanted it as much as you did.

I couldn't lose you when you meant so much to me.

That was why I couldn't tell you about your mama's last note. I worried that you'd go off all by yourself for that Safu girl. You were the type that would sacrifice yourself if it meant that someone precious to you would be alive. So I hid the note. I tried to find a way to save the girl on my own. I didn't want to involve you.

You found out soon enough, though. I knew something was up when you started your farewell speech. You sounded like you were only a step away from turning into a crying mess. You really _were_ a terrible liar. Your words were true; I couldn't mistake that. Your _tone_ was the lie. That, and your 'goodnight' kiss. It was short and chaste, but it was desperate. It screamed that so much of you wanted – needed – to stay, but you wanted Safu safe. It tasted like your love, your want for my safety, and your fear.

I thought you trusted me. You knew I'd try to stop you, but you thought I wouldn't help you? Of course I would. She was your friend. She held a place in your heart. Your heart, the one thing I wouldn't let break. Of course I'd help you. I already _was_.

Idiot.

I only wish my rule breaking had stopped there.

I should've closed you out the moment the manhunt started. But I didn't. I couldn't. You were already too precious to me. You were already the only thing that could break me.

You changed before my eyes. I caught glimpses of the monster Number Six had created – the _real_ monster, the being that _was_ cruel and ruthless, the one that _didn't_ have any regard for human life. This monster was the reason for my fear of you. I knew it was there, just under your skin. It was watching and waiting, waiting, waiting for you to be weak enough for it to take over.

It got what it wanted.

Your eyes were blank as you aimed the gun and fired the first shot. Your eyes had remained blank. Had you been taken away from me by this monster? Tears welled up in my eyes. I didn't feel the gunshot wounds. The agony I felt inside was much more crippling. Were you really gone? I called your name again and again. I screamed to you, desperately hoping to wake you up. You couldn't be gone. You were so much stronger than this _beast_.

You _couldn't_ be gone.

The monster spoke in your voice. It sounded hungry for death, hungry for bloodshed. My name, spoken by that voice made the dam of tears overflow. I'd finally been broken.

The second shot sounded.

I heard your voice again and it sounded like yours; it sounded like you were back. I couldn't look. I didn't want to see the man you'd just killed. I didn't want to see the blood splattered on your face, on your hand, on your clothing. I didn't want to look into your eyes and see that monster looking back at me.

I felt your hand on my arm; you were gentle, warm, and _Shion_ again. I looked up; I let the words flow freely and honestly. This was my fault. I was the reason everything had been broken. If only I had been a little faster. If only I'd been stronger. If only I hadn't met you. You would be safe right now. You might be happy. You wouldn't know the weight of the gun.

You used the clean parts of your sweater to apply some emergency first aid. Thankfully, you left the rest behind. I didn't want to look at it.

We met what was left of Safu only minutes later.

The moment I laid eyes on her, when I saw how calm and collected she looked despite being a test subject in the Correctional Facility, I knew something was very wrong. How could she be so calm here, in the center of this hell? Why did she look distantly happy when she saw you? She loved you.

She and mother had been bonded.

I gathered my strength and did as mother told me: I destroyed the machine that held her captive, held her bonded to Safu's body. Safu couldn't be saved. There was no way to unbind her from mother without killing her.

I was waiting to see what conclusion you would come to, knowing it'd hurt no matter what you said.

Your words were more fatal than the next gunshot I received. I expected you to leave me then. I would slow you down; I was dead weight; I had just killed your best friend. Maybe I should have known better. You told me to stay with you, begged me not to leave you. Since you were so insistent, I fought the comfortable dark as it crept in and reached for the light for the first time. For you.

I wanted to tell you what I felt. I wanted to tell you exactly what you meant to me. I wanted to tell you I loved you.

I wanted to, but your light went out right before my eyes. You grew cold in my arms. You were gone.


End file.
